From My Veranda: First Floor, Evening… Soaked With Burdens In The Rain

It appears noisy and cold. It appears calm at the same time. It stirs up exhilarating feelings that in themselves are quite warming and liberating. It brings to memory the lovely childhood moments gone by…moments of simplicity and pure life and fun…moments of freedom and free-spiritedness (bordering on carelessness); carelessness as we cast aside all our worries -well, what little fleeting ones we had (likely never to pick them up again) . And off into the rain we took.

What heavenly experience!
The rain drizzled first, and prepped our skins.
Then, the accompanying heavy breeze made us float in the air, as we screamed and jumped and kicked.
Finally the showers came; lightly at first, tickling our skins, playing on our senses, luring us further, against parents’ cries to run for shelter.
How bold we would have become by the time of the downpours.

This is not what I see today.
Need I say how sad the obviously sad life of adulthod appears?!
I just had my blood pressure checked and it’s scaringly higher than it has always been. It’s still within normal limits though. Is this supposed to be a sign of approaching adulthood? That I am now learning to bend my back to the burden; droop my shoulders at the weight; and let the chains be hooked to my skin. Learning to weigh my life down with worries whilst setting my blood pressure free to soar heights close to heaven, close to the grave?!
Then the rain called me out.
It’s evening time and the men in the stream of life are once again at it.

In the drizzles, adults don’t run about and play. I see them planning and worrying.
In the gay breeze, adults don’t float fearlessly about. See them rushing to whatever place THEY consider safe. (Safe from what, I wonder. From the wetting of the rain? I shake my head.)
In the showers, adults don’t start living on top of themselves. I see them become frantic and running with some degree of carelessness. (At least, they are careless about something!) They are closing up stalls, and packing up goods, and competing for vehicles, and ducking under sheds. Not a single soul just taking one moment out of many more rains to come, to let go…
…Oh! Bless you, CHILD. I see you leaping out with baby-jumps, unminding of your dress. Don’t worry, your shameless older ones forget when they get into macho-bar-fights and feminine-jealousy-clashes, and mess up their dresses and honours. I see you laughing gleefully and setting your spirit free to sample the simple joys of life…

Meanwhile, out the rain, that drenched guy doesn’t appear happy. What is he worrying about now -his wet dress, his failed appointment, his next meal? See the halo of resignation adorning his panicky features.
Those wet grown-ups, packed like dripping rats in a small box, are all riled and joustling for space in the commercial vans. They are worrying if they are going to catch “a cold”, if their destinations will be rain-free; some sellers with their wares have been given an early retrenchment by the rain, and are wondering how much profit they have made from the day.
Bless your kind motherly heart! The woman fretting over whether her kids are back from school and are safe from the downpour.
They are all there… From the “justifiable” to the “flimsy” reasons… Human hearts heavy with worries over things they can’t help many times.
Are we supposed to be immune from worries?
Well, humour me by being inhuman?

Epilogue: And when one of these come to me tomorrow, with a high blood presure, I shall retrieve this writing and read it to them. Of the day I saw them.
…In the rain.
…From my veranda